


The Cat Spies

by Umeko



Series: A Parisian Cat [3]
Category: d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feline shenanigans, OC is a cat, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What feline eyes see will surprise you. More of the Cardinal’s cat and Richelieu might wish his cat could talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cat Spies

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – The 3 Musketeers and the characters belong to Alexander Dumas and is now in the public domain.

“Your Majesty, please… Roland’s watching…” a feminine voice giggled. 

“Let him watch,” Louis XIII huffed as he lifted his wife into his arms and carried her towards their cavernous bed. It was an awkward move as he was a small man. The young couple collapsed onto the satiny pillows in laughter. 

The black cat on the dresser blinked his mismatched eyes and yawned lazily. The humans were mating again in their clumsy fashion. He did not quite understand why this pair was held in such high regard by the other humans. They were so young, small and weak. Neither had bred yet despite the many episodes of fumbling in the sheets. 

He saw the way some of the other men look at the young female. They would have taken her as their mate if they dared. If they were cats, they would have serenaded her and fought among themselves for her favours. The winner would take her off and mate with her, and she was free to mate with all her suitors in turn if she so chose. No sneaky smiles and secret letters to moon over. Humans are funny that way. 

The male was grooming the female now with sloppy kisses to her neck and bosom. She was moaning and gasping as if in heat. She was parting her legs and hoisting her heavy skirts up to let him in. The bed curtains were not drawn and the cat had a clear view of the royal couple. Perhaps she would suffocate under all her heavy skirts. 

The skirts are thrown over her head now as her mate mounted her in that awkward position many humans favoured. Something went wrong. Suddenly he pulled away from her.

“Sorry, Anne… we can’t…” 

“We understand… We are tired. We can try again tomorrow…” 

“Goodnight, Anne…”  He was dressing now. She smoothed down her skirts. The cat recognized the sexual frustration in the air. She wanted it and he could not deliver. If she were a cat, she would have clawed him across the face before seeking out a more deserving mate. 

The cat had seen enough. He was late enough as it was. He had gone to the palace hidden under the seat of his master’s carriage this time and planned to return in the same manner. 

* * *

 

Stepping out of the bedroom after the king, he found a coquettish tabby in the corridor, a willing mate. They enjoyed a brief and satisfying session in the shadows before a guard’s boot interrupted them. The black cat continued onto the guest wing. The doors and walls were thick in the palace to allow for both privacy and security. 

“Louise, I will be waiting…” a young guardsman kissed his young lover in the shadows. 

“I’ll be there, Pierre. Just give me some time to bid farewell to my sisters before we… Oh, Papa is coming. Go, before he catches us!” The female was pretty and very young. The granddaughter of a certain Comte. 

The lovers hastily parted ways. The guardsman darted down a dark spiral stairway while the noblewoman slipped into an upstairs gallery. Not a moment too soon. A plump marquis grumbled as he looked about him. He could have sworn he heard his youngest daughter there a moment ago. The black cat meowed and cocked his head. The noble ignored him and continued down a hallway. 

With his natural agility, the cat leapt up to the windows and out onto a ledge with ran along the outside of the rooms. 

* * *

 

“Please, sir... I’d do anything… please…” a pleading female voice. The cat peered into the narrow window, whiskers quivering. 

A young female was kneeling before an older male the cat recognized as one of the nobles his master disliked. The female was naked and her back raw and marred with welts. 

“Suck me, you slut…” the man grabbed the female by her long hair and she started to groom him there. The cat sniffed. Of course humans were not as limber as cats. He could appreciate some rough play in mating but there were limits. 

“Don’t, please don’t do this… Brother, I beg you.” A slap rang out. 

“Shut up.” All that followed as the slap of skin of skin amidst lusty grunts and choked sobs. The cat continued on his way nonchalantly.

* * *

 

The next room was not his master’s either. A trio of drunken young nobles were frolicking about in bed with a kitchen wench. The cat wondered if the bed would collapse from the vigorous antics. The three sons of a certain duke his master was not on good terms with, the cat hissed. He remembered getting kicked by one of the three the last time he was in the palace. 

 _No, tonight was not time for revenge._ He would continue on.

* * *

 

“Marie, what if…” 

“Oh shush… One drop of this and we will be free of him… You will wed me then, wouldn’t you?” 

The cat wrinkled his nose at the subtle taint of poison wafting from the window. Curious, he peered into the room. 

The older female was holding a struggling young kitten by the scuff of its neck as a frightened young man looked on. With cruel hands she forced the poor creature’s mouth open and dripped in a few drops of the poison.

The little scrap of orange fur convulsed piteously before going limp. The black cat twitched his tail with distaste. Life was cruel and it would do him no good dallying here.

* * *

 

He soon found his way to his master’s room. He leapt in through the open window and landed on the carpet. The cardinal was poring over some documents by candlelight. With a soft meow, he butted his master’s ankle. The cardinal almost dropped his glasses. 

“Diablo? What are you doing here? Spying on me?” 

The cardinal lifted his pet into his lap and stroked that glossy black fur. The black cat purred and nuzzled his master’s ink-stained hand. He was hungry. His master understood. He leapt onto the table so that the cardinal could potter over to where his half-eaten dinner sat on the side table. A piece of fish in cream would hit the spot. 

“We can’t have you wandering the halls so freely here… God alone knows what you will find…” Richelieu mused as he watched his favourite cat dine. The flames in the hearth crackled, reflecting off the cat’s mismatched eyes as he licked the last of the cream off his whiskers. Diablo tucked in his head and licked his fur, as if in agreement with the cardinal. 

**Author's Note:**

> Historically, Louis XIII and Anne were said to have had an unhappy marriage. Unusually for a king of that era, Louis was not known to have kept mistresses despite his marital difficulties.


End file.
